


ext jour (minutes before you steal my heart)

by halfaday



Series: doyu drabbles [5]
Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, M/M, Pining, literally nothing else just pining, title might be edited
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-14
Updated: 2020-09-14
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:55:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26460757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/halfaday/pseuds/halfaday
Summary: Life isn't a movie. Dongyoung kinda wishes it were, though.
Relationships: Kim Dongyoung | Doyoung/Nakamoto Yuta
Series: doyu drabbles [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1906981
Comments: 6
Kudos: 31





	ext jour (minutes before you steal my heart)

**Author's Note:**

> title half inspired by bb brunes' ext nuit, so give that a listen if you want to

If Dongyoung's life was fiction, and his university years were a movie, he would be the model student hated by all, the nerd with thick glasses whom nobody likes. He would be the annoying prick that loosens up as he meets his opposite, and becomes bearable throughout various (impossible) shenanigans. He would end up with Mr. Opposite after spending the first hour treating him like his nemesis, the next twenty minutes realising he has a fat crush on him, and the remaining runtime getting his happy ending. He would tie up the movie on an inspirational quote ('and when in university, do what wolves do: tear up the place <3'), and the song playing as the credits roll would be slightly awful but catchy, a metaphor for his character. The lights of the cinema would turn back on, and the audience would return to their lives.

The problem is: Dongyoung is his own audience to his entire (most definitely not less-than-two-hours long) life, and it is very, _very_ real — very, _very_ not cliché, and as a result, everybody likes him. As a result, he’s had Thin glasses most of his life, but switched to lenses a couple of years ago anyway — he has a gentle heart, and detests hurting people's feelings. He doesn't become bearable, because he was never once a bad person — he doesn't loosen up, because people like him as he is, and appreciate him for who he is. 

However — and this is where Dongyoung wishes he'd have a sparkle of cliché in his life — he does have an Opposite. He has an Opposite, who is everything but one — someone supposed to be the _jock_ to his _nerd,_ supposed to argue about anything with him, someone supposed to look at him with yearning in his eyes, dryness in his throat but also need on his lips (or something). Someone who instead greeted him with a smile the very first time they met, and who, since then, always discusses impractical schedules once football practice has ended — someone who isn't as cool as he's supposed to be, but doesn't care at all, because this is _real life,_ and there are _far more important things than appearing cool, like the planet dying for example, did you know sei whales are going extinct?_ (Dongyoung's opposite cares about the planet a lot, and it makes Dongyoung's heart melt. Who cares about unexpected personality traits and their lack of cliché when your opposite wants his kids to live in a better world?)

Someone who's actually a pale imitation of the Opposite he's supposed to be, and leaves Dongyoung very flustered. Because — how is he supposed to get his happy ending when the pillars are all wrong?

'Model student Kim, I'm fine discussing this, but will you let me shower first? I'm taking the bus home, are you, too? We can discuss this as we head back to our respective places, can we? What do you say about it?'

Nakamoto Yuta, big jock if this were a movie, attractive extra if this were a tv show, unattainable love interest if this were a book, stands by the door of the gymnasium, sweaty, tired, but nevertheless smiling. Nakamoto Yuta, captain of the football team, Dongyoung's very similar Opposite — once again offering a compromise, and Dongyoung has no choice but to take it.

'Fine, alright. I'll be waiting at the bus stop. But don't take too long, okay? I have an essay to work on, and I'm pretty sure it'll rain soon.'

'I'll be as fast as lightning! See you!'

Nakamoto Yuta flashes an even-bigger smile, and shuts the door on him.

And of course, because this isn't a movie, but Mr. Opposite does fail here and there — because life loves irony, and Yuta loves long showers — it's pouring when he finally comes out, and whatever strength Dongyoung had left for his essay has followed the course of the droplets of water, and landed on the ground by his feet, unwilling to be picked up. This isn't a movie — but sometimes, Dongyoung does wish they were enemies, and he could be petty and whine at Yuta for ruining this part of his day.

(He won't, though. Yuta's sheepish smile is sincere, and so is his apology. Yuta is no jock, and Dongyoung is no unbearable nerdy roach - so he lets it go.)

'So what is it about that competition you were talking about?' Yuta asks once he's under Dongyoung's umbrella, eternal oversight of the weather forecast running too deep in his blood (somehow making him endearing, as he scoots closer to Dongyoung. He's cute, with his wet hair trying its best to hide in his beanie — Dongyoung wishes the two of them were reaching the end of the movie’s runtime, and he had the permission to comb it neatly, to take off the beanie and, perhaps, maybe, run his hand through it a zillion times.)

(But: this is reality. He can do nothing, apart from stealing a few glances as if he were a victorian man, and this were his paramour.)

(Tragic.)

'Well, it's like last year. Though I imagine you don't remember?'

Yuta smiles, sheepish.

'Not really. Remind me?'

'Sure. The choir club has trimestrial competitions. That you know, I imagine.'

'Sure do!'

'Great. Now with these competitions, comes another set of matches. These happen once every two months for the first four months, then the third match happens three months later. Then we have the finale, during the summer. And you'll notice I said _finale,_ because this is, you know… a competition. Not only that, it's based on the principle of elimination, so if you're not good enough in a match - a _round,_ I'm realising the right word for it is _round,_ not match, I kept wondering why it sounded off- anyway, if you're not good enough in a round, you get scrapped. And that's not what we'd want to happen, right? Because we've been winning (at the very least, Not gotten eliminated) for a few years now, but we're on thin ice this year, and you know, last year was a precursor of that: Taeil almost couldn't make it and we had to scramble for another song, and, well, Jaehyun had to at least be there too, because if Donghyuck is strolling around in the USA, Taeil is sick as hell and Youngho isn't feeling it at all, well, it's not, doable, right? Anyway, yeah, so this year Taeil isn't sick, thank god, but you know he's too busy succeeding in his career to sing with us, so no thanks, god- and Youngho is starting to not feel it again, and like, if Jaehyun can make it, if you would just, you know, find a way to work it out for him to be able to practice with us- Kunhang's doing superbly well but I'm thinking, if Jaehyun's there to harmonise with him and they hit That note Together at the end of the bridge, they might-'

Dongyoung cuts himself off, suddenly recognises the look Yuta is giving him. Indecipherable, intense — absolutely blank, trying its very best not to zone out. He sighs. 

'Are you even listening?'

'I am. Dongyoung, I am. But,' Yuta makes a face, a grimace of helplessness — and Dongyoung, in-between hating this entirely and wishing to just go home already, finds him very cute, very kissable. 'I'm not getting everything.'

'Fine,' Dongyoung mumbles, looking away so that Yuta's kissable face doesn't distract him from his annoyance. 'What do you not get?'

'... Everything? It's a lot to take in, with Taeil being sick and not sick but also not being there here and there, and Kunhang being, I don't know, have you mentioned him before?'

The rain picks up a stronger pace, and Dongyoung's left arm, uncovered so that Yuta is sheltered from the rain, gets drenched in 0.5 seconds. A big mood.

'Alright,' Dongyoung says to the very wet, very sad-looking pavement. 'Get this: big yearly competition. Three elimination rounds, one finale. The choir club has made it past the two first rounds, but without Jaehyun there's no way we're winning the third round. I need you to use your great captain magic and make him able to attend practices. Pretty please. Oh, and Kunhang's the guy who was with me last time I came to the gymnasium.'

'Oh, the guy walking around with pie in his bag?'

'Yeah, that's the one.'

'Sweet kid.'

'He is.' Dongyoung marks a pause, out of politeness. 'You get it, now?'

'Yeah! I do. I'll see what I can do. Can't promise anything, of course, but,' Yuta nudges Dongyoung, and Dongyoung forgets about the pavement — looks at him, and wonders how he managed to last this long without gazing lovingly at his face. Oh, his _smile-_ 'I'll try my best so that you can do the same.'

The words touch Dongyoung — they reach his spirit, then travel all the way to his heart — make him feel cared for, somehow, and he struggles to come up with a reply, very clearly feels his cheeks heating up. Thankfully: the bus saves him from the situation, and he has plenty of time to collect himself before Yuta speaks again — this time from the comfort of the seat at his right; elbows knocking against his, almost-familiar weight leaning against him as the bus starts again.

'It's important, isn't it? Aren't you stressed? I know I am when the grand prize comes around.'

Dongyoung is very-well aware: he's seen Yuta during grand prize season, prowling around campus, laughing a little too easily and locking himself up in the gymnasium to practice his kicks — lying in a starfish position on the ground of the training field, and looking at him like he's standing on the edge of a waterfall. It's not pretty, not at all — but then again, neither is pre- _Annual Choir Prize: Finale Session_ Dongyoung.

'I am, slightly. But for now we're alright. Even with the on-going issue. It's only the third round, you know?'

'Still,' Yuta shrugs. 'You've made it this far, haven't you? I know nothing compares to the last game- _round,_ sorry, but you've done well until now, no?'

Dongyoung — blushes, like he's ten years old and this is the first time he's being complimented, like Yuta just kissed him on the cheek and he's offering to - date him, or something. (Hah! He wishes!)

'I… believe we did. Thank you.'

Yuta chuckles, eyes crinkling up into crescents, wide, _bright_ smile lightening up the entire day — Dongyoung's crush on him gets 3% bigger, and he wishes — wishes this were a movie, and he could just kiss him until he'd be light too, and the sun would shrink at the sight of them together. He really, really wishes.

(But, once again, for the millionth time, this is the furthest thing from a movie — this is the real world, and in the real world, Opposites Kim Dongyoung and Nakamato Yuta get along well, but do not go further than that. They are friends, and remain on good terms until death do them part. The fictional world is heavenly — real life is bitter, and full of missed occasions. Nakamoto Yuta, the perfect opposite, is nothing but another one.)

'The weather's sad, isn't it? I offered Mark to get takoyaki later, but I think we'll have to settle for ramen.'

'I'm sorry for your loss,' Dongyoung pats Yuta on the knee, understanding of his pain. 

'Are you mocking me? Are you mocking us?'

'Not at all! I'm genuinely sorry for you two. It's been a while since I last had takoyaki.'

Yuta sinks deeper into his seat, hums pensively — asks him where he had them, and the conversation leaves the competitions far behind them, becomes centered around food, then essays they're supposed to work on — takes another food turn, then dips into meals from other countries, becomes an ocean of memories from other places, specifically Japan. Yuta reminisces about home, and Dongyoung listens, drinks every word that exits his mouth. It's not even that Yuta gets ten times more attractive when he's talking about past experiences (okay. maybe he does.), or that the bus lights give him an aura that is too charming to resist (... maybe they do.), but more that, like this, sitting by his side and talking comfortably, Dongyoung feels at peace. He feels nice, and warm, like the universe has decided to give him a break, and this is his cup of hot chocolate healing him from everything that's happened today — he feels reassured, when he's by Yuta's side; reassured and calm, and it's something he treasures.

It's something he also will never admit, not to his brother (a trustable man), or to Jeno (another trustable man, also his roommate). Not even to Jaehyun's pet ferret (his confidant, the most trustable one of all) — and certainly not over his dead body, ever. It's - his secret, the thing he'd write down in his journal if this were a movie (if he tried hard enough to keep his journal up to date and didn't cringe whenever he rereads it). But this isn't a movie, so he keeps it all to himself, and Yuta won't pick up on it, because, once again: what you want is rarely what you get, always. Sadly.

'Well, here's me. Nice catching up with you, model student Kim. Let's do that again when we need to discuss pluri-disciplinal ace Jaehyun's schedules?'

Dongyoung, pulled out of his thoughts — heaved up from the little hellish hole he was settling in — cannot help but soften at the wording — he grins, and he shakes the hand Yuta has extended.

'Of course, magical captain Nakamoto. I'll be pleased to be a part of this again.'

The bus stops, and the doors open to let a few passengers off — Yuta winks, and - very slightly, just before letting go - he squeezes Dongyoung's hand, gently, carefully, for the shortest millisecond that ever existed - grazes the part of his soul that's fallen for him, and, softly - sets it ablaze. And as if this were yet another romcom playing in the shitty cinema in the nearest city, as if this were the moment things start to fall into place - the world seizes the momentum and stops for a while, and Dongyoung is left speechless, left to stare at Yuta as he smiles at him.

 _This is it,_ he thinks, for no reason at all — because _this_ will never be it, _this_ will never resemble it. A movie will always pale in comparison to real life, a movie will never manage to fully convey what happens when time stops — a movie will never feel more powerful than the moments _themselves,_ will never touch the deepest corners of your heart like a single, tangible touch does. A movie happens then is no more — life is a series of flowers blossoming, even in the darkest circumstances.

In the universe right by this one, Dongyoung stands up and kisses Yuta goodbye (he's less of a nerd, and less versed on consent). In another one, Yuta simply lets go, and Dongyoung shrinks back into his seat, overthinks everything (in yet another one, he doesn't, and manages to fall asleep without replaying the entire scenario in his head). Here… a little stunned, a little too enamoured — with his heart growing bold, and craving for more — Dongyoung squeezes Yuta's hand back without even thinking of it; blushes when his eyes meet Yuta's and he sees surprise in them. Instant regret hits him like a truck, and he wants to dig a hole for him to crawl and hide in.

But Nakamoto Yuta, skilled and understanding, sweet and mindful of others, not at all the jock he's supposed to be, not at all the opposite Dongyoung so dearly wishes he were, seems to catch on to the situation (to the tip of it, at least). He lets go, but with a smile — an unusual grin Dongyoung has never once seen before, one that pulls at the heaviest strings of his heart. He makes an L with his thumb and his index, turns the letter into a gun — aims at Dongyoung's head as he takes a step towards the doors.

'Looking forward to it,' he says. Shutting an eye to get a more accurate grip on his target, but it's pointless: he shoots Dongyoung while stepping out — misses his target by many, many centimeters, and never once reaches it.

He leaves Dongyoung alone, muttering a _sure_ to himself as the doors close and the bus starts again, blanking out for the rest of the ride — he leaves him weak and unable to process everything, feeble, and lacking the strength to do anything other than crawl into bed once at home, let alone do his essay.

He leaves him wounded, and overthinking everything, unable to forget his smile, unable to forget the warmth that grazed his hand — leaves him staying up all night, staring at his ceiling, with a hand on his chest, and wishing, wishing, wishing this entire thing was fictional, and he would wake up with a still heart, a calm mind.

Sadly - Yuta has perfect aim, and the little organ he hit beats on fervently — everything is real, and his bullet carries the prettiest ray of hope. In this universe, tangible, substantial - Dongyoung feels the bullet under his fingers, lodged beneath his ribs — he is fatally wounded, and has no other choice but to keep on living. In a thousand universes, but most importantly, this one — the seed planted in his heart settles down, and blooms without even any light.

  
In this universe, and no other one — the universe presses _play,_ and the movie starts.

**Author's Note:**

> [twt](https://twitter.com/millesoirees)


End file.
